


and the distant sound of thunder

by lechatnoir



Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Young Avengers
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 18:18:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3859876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lechatnoir/pseuds/lechatnoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>set as a 'what if' sort of work in regards to the events of S.H.I.E.L.D. #5 that came out; Or, the one where Wanda Maximoff goes away to grow and learn, and has to return to New York in order to save someone close to her. </p><p>based on the tumblr prompt: brontide - the low rumbling of distant thunder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and the distant sound of thunder

i.

She remembers curling up beneath the trees and listening to the night envelope her, listening to the distant flicker of the stars and the songs that Marya would sing to them before tucking them in to bed, chasing away the nightmares of sirens wailing and demons prowling underneath their beds.

 

(She remembers the red ribbons Marya would weave into her hair, remembers the flowers that they’d gather along the mountaintop, how the wolves watched from a distance (never coming close, just watching from afar) 

 

It’s been years and she’s grown tired, grown tired of the hateful stares and the cold whispers that seem to dog her everywhere she goes -- 

 

Don’t trust that witch, she’ll burn you to the ground and tear your world to shreds -- just like her father, that one. --

\-- so she runs, takes off with a hand written note and the familiar howling wind that guides her to the mountains, away from the city, away from familiar faces.

It’s been too long since she’s felt the hum of the earth whisper to her, the wind dance alongside her. 

It’s a welcome feeling.

ii.

 

She travels here and there, making pitstops every so often and keeping mostly to herself. If she ventures towards small towns she makes sure that she doesn’t stay in one place for too long (if Pietro was there with her, she’d laugh and they’d joke how it’s a force of habit, always moving and never staying). 

 

She buys a red shawl from a old woman who smiles at her, old laughter lines like crow’s feet and Wanda thinks of home. 

(Except, you’ve never had a home.) 

 

She wraps the shawl around her, scarlet and gold covering her head and a hum on her lips as she moves forward, listening to the wind guide her to the mountains. 

 

It takes her a while, but she reaches the familiar fields and mountains that welcome her with open arms, wind caressing her face and she lets out a laugh, spinning and falling down on the grass, letting the leaves caress her arms and watches the skies roll on by. 

Soon enough, she falls asleep, and wakes to a pair of golden eyes staring at her, sharp teeth gleaming in her in the moonlight and she laughs in greeting, hand outstretched to meet fur and the howl the wolves. 

 

She has come home. 

iii. 

She follows the wolves as they travel along the rivers and stays close to them (out of familiarity, out of curiosity -- perhaps a bit of both), breaking away every so often to venture to the closest town to keep an ear out as to know what was going on in the rest of the world. 

 

It’s then she notices the man in black sunglasses sitting at the cafe staring at her, and she only raises a eyebrow in return before making her way over to him.

 

“Agent Coulson was it? Is SHIELD following me all the way out here? Seems like I can’t have a vacation in peace.” She says as a form of greeting, crossing her arms out of habit. 

 

“Miss Maximoff -- “ 

 

“Wanda.” 

“Right -- Wanda. There’s been a bit of trouble -- we’ve been persuing a case where mystics are being targetted by some sort of weapon -- reports have been coming in like clockwork and well, we fear one of the potential next victims might be of interest to you” Coulson says. 

 

It’s a second , then two that it clicks -- and there’s the fear that slowly turns her blood cold -- 

“Where? - “ is all that she says, eyes narrowing as the winds picked up again and she doesn’t like this, the sense of quiet dread and worry that slips into her at that moment. 

 

“Washington Square Park.” is all she gets in reply before nodding and putting her shawl back up, storm clouds rising and thunder rumbling.

(She thinks of the wolves who watch her, eyes gleaming like blurs as she concentrates and hopes that she’s quick enough -- ) 

 

iv. 

 

She counts exactly 15 seconds in between each rumble of the thunder as she gets closer to Washington Square Park, eyes searching quickly for a sign -- something -- some glimmer of hope that she’s not too late -- until she sees it, the familiar red cloak and lightning blue sparks fading in and out and a gun pointed to his head --- it’ s then that she dives in, makes the gun jam and explode and she remembers the wolves snarling and thunder rumbling at that moment. 

She lets the two SHIELD agents detain the man (she doesn’t care about his fate, not really. In fact, she’s glad that they decide to enact whatever protocol or method they had with dealing with this sort of thing, because if given the chance she would have probably done more harm to him then just making his gun explode) and lets out a sigh of relief when she sees that Billy’s alright - a little bloody and bristling but he’s alive and that’s already a relief. 

She tilts his head up and inspects him for any other wounds, to which he lets out a annoyed little grumble that “ I’m not a kid -- “ before stumbling over what exactly to call her -- Wanda? Mom? Scarlet Mom? -- and she laughs and nods, says quietly “I know that, Billy. It’s a force of habit, I think.” 

 

He doesn’t say anything right away, but it’s when she starts to move away with a quiet smile that he moves to hug her, arms holding onto her tightly, and she can feel the thunder rumbling in the distance, can feel the winds shift and hum - the calm before the storm - and she smiles, presses a kiss to the top of his head and holds him close as the thunder roared in the distance. 

 

(Later, she will tell him of the wolves that watched over her, teach him how to read the wind and the rain, to hear the thunder rumble and sense the lightening before it first cracks across the sky. 

 

She’ll teach him the songs that Marya taught her, and they’ll keep each other close, for she had a family to protect, patchwork frame and frayed threads -- but it was hers, and so she would keep it safe, keep things locked away for a rainy day, where they could listen to the rain outside and the thunder rumbling in the distance.)


End file.
